


To Be Where There's Life

by galinda



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Cruise Ships, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galinda/pseuds/galinda
Summary: After playing the biggest concert of his life, Alec Lightwood finds his life falling apart around him. In an effort to run away from the consequences, he takes a last minute gig playing in the house band of a cruise ship for nearly a year. But, while he's there, he meets the person he never knew he needed, and his life changes forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. here's a growing playlist for songs in the fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40tt1Fh1Ut3YqfyHJDDQmM

_Alec feels the sweat building on his chest under his worn shirt, seeping through the fabric as his hands rotated around the drum kit in front of him. He ignores the fatigue building in his forearms as he beats the crash cymbal, before slowly fading down in volume for the bridge of the song. It’s brief, the singer in front of him only using it as a moment to catch his breath. The bass comes back in with the familiar pattern of the chorus, and Alec takes his cue to fill in until the lyrics fade back in. He picks up the speed on the kick drum, the low, guttery sound erupting from the stage._

_The venue is too loud for anyone to hear, but Alec screams on the top of his lungs as he brings back in the chorus, playing the toms and snare as fast as he could before slamming back down on the cymbals. The last chorus of the song comes back in, and in front of the band, the crowd goes wild. People throw each other around, and few fans climb up onto the stage. They run in front of Alec, pushing each other around before jumping back into the audience._

_One of the fans accidently socks the bass player, pushing him to the side. Despite the interruption, the song comes to a close, and Alec plays the kit as fast as he can, filling the space. Finally, he slows down, slamming both sticks on two different cymbals. The lights on the stage go pitch black, but the crowd still screams. Alec looks up, taking in the array of stars above the festival._

_“Thank you,” Jace says into the microphone, trying to calm the crowd down. As the lights come back on, the crowd looks visibly more tired than they did before, the intensity of the concert setting in. “We are Book of Raziel. Enjoy the rest of the festival and stay high.” The crowd cheers once more, before security starts clearing them out to prepare for the next day._

_After packing up the rest of his drums, Alec rolls his shoulders back, the tension of the show leaving his body. Simon sits by the lounge area with an ice pack on his face, although the bruise was already forming. “Damn, dude, that guy fucked you up,” Jace says as he passes Simon. He hands Alec a beer, one of many they had already drank that night. He takes the bottle, and it seems heavy from how tired his arms are._

_“I don’t care,” Simon responds. “The videographer got it, so it’ll be in the official footage. Which is pretty sick.” Before he can continue, Raphael joins them, already smoking a joint. The next band starts setting up,_ _queuing_ _the men to make their leave._

_As they’re walking back to the car, Clary finds them, flashing her backstage pass at the security guard. Jace wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Please tell me we’re going to the after party,” she says, voice hoarse from screaming._

_“I don’t know, I’m kind of beat after that show. It was our biggest crowd yet,” Jace responds. “Someone did a backflip off the speaker.”_

_“Another reason to celebrate,” Raphael says, passing his joint to Jace, who looks at it for a moment, before shrugging and taking a hit. The group then reroute, heading toward the party that Alec would always come to regret going to._

_“_ You’re such an idiot, Alec,” Isabelle says over the phone. Alec pulls the speaker away from his ear, saving himself from her yelling. “If you think running away is going to fix anything between you then you’re crazy. Regardless of how you feel, this album has sold more than you ever have before. You’re making a mistake.” 

“It’s not forever, Izzy,” Alec responds, watching as the airport employees begin preparing to start boarding the plane. “It’s just a ten-month contract. In the long run that’s nothing.” 

“It’s about your career, Alec,” Isabelle says, her tone calmer. “People are going to wonder why you aren’t on tour. They’re going to figure out it coincides with the night of the party, and they’re going to speculate. And you know they’re going to assume the worst of you. They’re going to say you’re in a psych ward, or rehab. Not on a goddamn cruise ship.” 

“Then let them speculate, Izzy. I don’t care what they think.” In front of him, the flight attendants call for first class. “I have to go, we’re boarding. I’ll call you when I’m at the port.” 

“Fine, but I’m not done lecturing you,” Isabelle mutters. “We still have things to talk about. Not just as your manager. In case you forgot, I’m your sister too.” 

“Sure, whatever, Izzy,” Alec says. “But just so you know, I don’t plan on paying for the Wi-Fi on the ship. After I board, I’ll be officially off the grid.” 

Alec groans as he pulls his suit case up the ramp of the ship, the sun beating down on him. He was hot at the festival in California, but it didn’t compare to the sauna that was the Mumbai heat. It was his first time this far away from the United States. The band had done a few festivals in England, but there he didn’t feel out of place among the locals. 

Someone from the crew shows him to his dorm, which he will be sharing with one of the other musicians on the ship. Its small, with only enough room to walk in and slide his suit case under the bunk. His roommate wasn’t there yet, so Alec throws his sheets on the top bunk, indicating them to take the bottom. Three days after the night of the party, Alec had gone online and found a company running auditions to play on cruise ships. He had auditioned with a quick skype call, and none of the people he played for recognized him. Within a week, he was contracted with a departure time. 

He quickly changes into an old _Zildjian_ t-shirt he had cut the sleeves off of, along with a pair of mesh workout shorts, and makes his way to orientation. One of the faults of being part of a self-proclaimed “grunge” band, was that most of his clothes were black. But Isabelle had always harped on their image, regardless of how small some of the venues were in the start. 

After finding a seat in the meeting room, Alec watches as the rest of the crew filters into the room. Eventually, the crew manager and one of the pool lifeguards start the meeting. Alec zones out after they finish talking about fire safety, looking around at the other crew members. At first, he was scared that someone would recognize him. Most of the crew were American, and younger in age, but Alec assumed they didn’t have a taste in punk. 

At the end of the meeting, the manager hands Alec a schedule for the musicians. That night, they already had a lowkey show in the lounge, and the next day they would have a show for the first guest performer. It was a hectic, busy schedule, which Alec was content with. That way he could get lost in the music, and not think about the life he left behind. 

As the meeting wraps, Alec heads down to the lounge to check out the set he would be using. He was satisfied with the brand, and it was a smaller set-up than he usually used. It felt simple. Refreshing. Based on the schedule, he still had an hour before the rest of the band would show up for a quick rehearsal before playing that night. Alec stretches out his hands for a few minutes, before closing his eyes and visualizing what he wanted to play. 

It had been a long time since he got to just sit down at a kit, and play the basic exercises he grew up with. He starts out slow, just focusing on each limb, taking in how his body felt. It was therapeutic in a way. It was one thing he never had time for between recording the new album and planning the tour. 

“ _Yeah you, got that_ _somethin_ _’, I think you’ll understand,” Jace sings into the mic, his voice smooth. He nods his head, strumming along in time with the others. “When I say that_ _somethin_ _’... I want to hold your hand...” he hits the notes perfectly, and the crowd in front of them clap along. Alec flips his hair out of his face, watching as Jace finishes out the song._

_The small crowd on the grass cheers for them, most of them people over the age of sixty. Jace looks around at the other band members, before all bowing in unison. “Thank you, everyone. We’re going to take a short break before announcing the auction winners, and then we’ll finish out with most of your favorite Beatles classics.” He smiles at the crowd, before turning around, following the rest of the band backstage._

_“I almost thought someone was going to break a hip,” Simon jokes as they all get handed water bottles. The others laugh, and Alec airs out his suit._

_“It might not be our ideal crowd, but at least it’s a crowd,” Jace says. “And we’re getting paid, finally.”_

_“Yeah, 20 bucks each. That’s the gas to get out here,” Raphael complains. “And I don’t think the shop is going to let me return this suit after I’ve sweat this much.”_

_“I’m trying to make connections,” Jace says. “We might just be playing covers at some stupid family festival right now, but it’s not_ _gonna_ _be like that forever. Plus, the stage manager said if we play well enough now, he’ll hire us as the house band for the park during the summer._ _So,_ _let’s just finish the set, and make our money.”_

_“Fine, but if we get the summer gig, we aren’t wearing these monkey suits,” Raphael responds, the rest of the group laughing._

Alec’s interrupted when a small group of people walk into the lounge, talking amongst themselves. He freezes in his seat, looking up at them. They all smile, and Alec gets out from behind the kit. “You must be the drummer,” one girl says, smiling. She’s shorter than the others, but carries a confidence to her that fills up the room. She holds her hand out, and Alec shakes it reluctantly. “I’m Aline, the guitarist.” 

Alec nods, forcing a smile. He knew that at least among the music community, people were talking about the band, but these three didn’t seem to recognize him. Or at least, they weren’t saying anything. “I’m Maia, I play bass,” the other girl says, also shaking Alec’s hand. “Aline and I just got off another ship a few days ago, and the manager sent us here, so we haven’t had too much time to prepare anything.” 

“Me neither,” Alec says, although he chooses not to explain why. To be honest, he had barely practiced since the night of the party, and he had no idea what these musicians wanted to play in the lounge. Aside from the band's music, the only other music he had played was a few covers to rile up the audience over the last tour. 

The third person is a man with clear, tan skin and styled black hair. He’s clean shaven, looking more polished than the other three. “I’m Magnus,” he says, holding out his hand. Alec shakes it, surprised at how strong the grip is. “The keys.” Alec watches as the three prepare their instruments. Aline and Maia tune the bass and guitar quickly, then adjust the amps. Magnus adjusts the stool on the grand piano that takes up a large portion of the stage. 

The set-up is so quiet, it throws Alec off. He was so used to Raphael and Simon arguing, Jace going over the set four times, and Isabelle going over the logistics of the venue. Once everyone is satisfied, Magnus speaks up. “Okay, for tonight we’re supposed to be playing some of the standards. _A Train, Satin Doll._ Stuff like that.” 

After discussing a solo order, Alec feels everyone’s eyes on him for a count off. He feels his hands tense, and as he hits the snare, the timing fluctuates. “Sorry,” he mutters, feeling his cheeks turn red from embarrassment. It had been years since Alec had played jazz. After he recollects himself, he takes a deep breath, and counts off once more, with solid time. The tune picks up, and Alec can hear Magnus playing the melody in one hand while accompanying himself with the other. 

Aline takes the first chorus, her body swaying in time with Alec’s comping. Her fingers dance over the neck of the guitar, the sound smooth. It’s much calmer from the heavy, distorted sound Raphael and Jace usually played with. Once she’s done, Maia picks up her own solo, and Alec hears Aline and Magnus both drop out. Alec keeps the beat to a simple swing, choosing not to add any extra ornaments. He could tell he sounded like a novice drummer, but despite having played drums for fifteen years, he felt completely new. 

Magnus’ solo goes smoothly, notes flying out of the piano faster than Alec can comprehend. It’s finally his turn to take a solo, and he closes his eyes, imagining what he wants to do. For the first time in years, the words of his college instructor come to mind, and he becomes lost in the tune. Instead of playing as fast as he could, like he did at the shows, he focuses on his timing and musicality. At the end of his chorus, he does a fill down the drums, queuing the beginning of the tune again. Everyone else comes in right on time, and they finish out the rest of the song. 

After they finish rehearsing, Alec heads back to his dorm before the others. While he continues unpacking his suit case into the small closet, the door opens, and Magnus walks in. “I suppose it’s not a surprise that we’re roommates,” he says, and Alec shrugs. He closes the door behind him, and goes through his own suitcase, pulling out a neatly pressed suit. 

Alec watches as he lays the material out on the bed. He thinks about the loose-fitting button up and slacks he brought himself, embarrassed by how under dressed he’s going to appear. They go about their business in silence for a while, until Magnus continues the conversation. “So...” he trails off. “What brought you to playing for a cruise ship?” 

“I don’t know,” Alec lies. “Money, I guess.” He shakes out his dress shirt, cringing at the wrinkles. It was the only formal wear he owned, left over from attending the premiere of an indie movie that Clary had done costume design for. 

“You know, there’s a dry cleaner on the ship,” Magnus says, looking at the shirt. “I’m sure they can press that for you before the show.” Alec feels himself getting annoyed with the other man. He seemed so prepared, almost pretentious. He was exactly the type of musician who would listen to one song by the band and shrug it off because it wasn’t as intricate as a classical piece. 

“That would probably be best,” Alec says. He collects the garments and opens the door, leaving behind the other man to prepare himself for their first gig. 

“ _Dude, it has to be perfect or no one is going to take us seriously,” Jace says, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Raphael rolls his eyes, retuning his guitar. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but this is a big deal.”_

_“Yeah, opening for the opener of a Pink Floyd cover band sounds like a big deal to me,” Raphael complains. “Can we just run it again? I’ll play the riff right this time.”_

_“I know this seems stupid, but if we can get the crowd to be into it and set them up for the next two bands, we’re_ _gonna_ _get respect for it,” Jace says. “Plus, all these middle-aged people love Guns N’ Roses, so they're going to notice if anything is wrong.”_

_“I get it, Jesus,” Raphael says. After checking with the sound guy, they start up again, this time Raphael playing the popular guitar riff in perfect time. Alec comes in soon after, and then Simon, and it’s just the three of them until Jace comes in with the lyrics._

_“She’s got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories,” he starts, finally happy with how everything was sounding. A few hours later, they’re on stage, playing the same song while the audience start getting situated for the show. Jace introduces them, but no one really seems to be paying attention._

_It seems bleak for a moment, until Raphael comes in with the guitar riff. More people look up, gaining their interest. Jace comes in with the first verse, and more and more people stop talking, watching them instead. It’s an outdoor venue, with a lot of seats. As more and more people start watching them, Jace’s confidence grows. By the end of the song, they have the audience’s full attention, clapping and singing along._

_At the end of their set, the next opener comes on, and while they’re packing up a man comes up to them. “You guys were really rocking out there,” he says. “Those songs aren’t easier to play. You captured Axel’s energy perfectly,” the man says to Jace. Jace thanks him, and he continues. “Look, I work with a small record company out of Pasadena. I’m not promising anything, but if you have your own stuff, maybe one of our producers can help you make a single. Get you started on something.”_

_He hands Jace a card, who takes and before waving goodbye. He turns around, showing it to the others. “See, Raphael? I told you playing that goddamn riff right would pay off.”_

After tuning and going over the setlist once more, the guests of the ship come into the lounge. It’s a quiet, but smooth night. People barely pay attention to the musicians on stage, enjoying their drinks and company. For the few people left at the end of the night, Magnus plays a twenty-minute improvisation, slow and unaccompanied. Eventually, he fades out, and the band cleans up. 

“We’re all going up to the staff bar, you should come,” Maia says to Alec after he finishes taking his cymbals off the kit. He had known about the staff bar on the ship, but was hesitant to go. He had been sober since the night of the festival. 

“Yeah, there’s no use in working on the ship if you aren’t going to make friends and have a good time,” Aline says. 

“I could use a drink, I guess,” Alec says, following the other three upstairs to the bar. It’s relatively crowded, other crew members tired from working their first day on the ship. Alec felt lucky that he wasn’t on the cleaning staff, having to pick up after hundreds of people. 

Upon walking into the staff lounge, Aline offers to pick up the discounted drinks from the bartender. Maia snickers, leading the other two band members to a table. “When we got off the other ship, Aline found out the same bartender from the last one was going to be boarding this one. That’s her tending the bar right now.” 

Aline comes back with a small tray of shots, her face a bright red. “Don’t you dare say anything, Maia,” she says, putting the tray down. Alec immediately feels his body yearning for one of the shots, having gone through withdrawal a couple weeks earlier. 

“I don’t have anything to say,” Maia responds, taking one of the shots from the tray. “I just wish you would talk to her.” 

“You know I’m not that bold,” Aline says, sighing. “Besides, she probably doesn’t even like me the same way I like her.” 

“Maybe not... But how many of these drinks were free?” 

“Shut up.” 

For a while, Alec just listens to Maia, Magnus, and Aline’s small talk, discussing their past gigs. Maia and Aline had been playing on cruise ships since finishing their undergrad studies, and had plenty of funny stories to contribute to the conversation. 

“So, Magnus, where did you go to school?” Aline asks, leaning forward against the table. It had been difficult, but Alec managed to only consume one shot during a toast that Maia gave to signify the start of the ten-month long contract. 

“I don’t want to say,” Magnus responds, laughing into his drink. 

“Oh, come on, you let us go on forever,” Aline argues, nudging Magnus’s shoulder. 

Magnus rolls his eyes, finishing his drink before answering. “Julliard.” Maia and Aline groan, and Magnus shakes his head. “I know, it sounds pretentious, but it’s true. I have a bachelors in classical performance, and a masters in composition.” 

“Then what are you doing here?” Maia asks. “I mean, not to get down on myself, but cruise ships aren’t exactly the pinnacle of a successful music career.” 

“I don’t see myself here forever,” Magnus says. “But Julliard cost a lot of money, and I need to pay it off somehow. And it beats playing weddings.” Aline and Maia laugh at him, before sharing their own stories about wedding bands. Eventually, they wind down, and Alec and Magnus walk back to their dorm together. 

They get ready to go to sleep in silence, and eventually Alec climbs to the top bunk, and pulls the curtain around, indicating he doesn’t want to be bothered. He lies there, replaying the day in his head. It had been a long time since everything had been that simple. Wake up, wait for rehearsal, perform. That would be his life every day for ten months. No worrying about having an image, waking up and drinking before eating breakfast, listening to the other members argue. No producers. No fans expecting anything. Just music. He missed the feeling. 

Jace scrolls through his twitter feed, glancing over the hundreds of tweets asking where Alec was. Isabelle had decided the best decision was to start the tour without announcing the drummer’s departure from the band. Jace didn’t even know where he was, and Isabelle was refusing to tell. Their new drummer was well-trained, but didn’t catch all the fine details like Alec always had. It felt foreign playing a show with him the night before, and Jace could tell the audience noticed. 

Clary comes up behind him, massaging his shoulders. They were held up in a hotel before getting back on the tour bus the next morning. “I know you’re blaming yourself,” Clary says. “But you can’t control what Alec decides to do. Just focus on the tour.” 

“I know, but it’s weird playing without my best friend,” Jace responds, scrolling back up to the top of his profile. His twitter header was a candid photo from the end of a show, with all four band members standing together on the stage. “We’ve been playing together since we were ten.” 

“He’ll turn up soon enough,” Clary says. “Let the fans think what they think. All the shows are still sold out.” She kisses the side of his forehead before leaving him alone on the couch, replaying that moment at the festival over and over in his head. 

Alec drinks from his water bottle while the performer onstage thanks the audience for coming. The past few weeks had been the same routine every day. He would wake up late after the show the night before, use the staff gym, practice alone until getting sheet music for the act for that night, and then rehearse with that act. At first, his sight-reading skills were rusty, but eventually, he started picking up quicker. He rarely hung out with the other musicians, save for some small talk in the dorm with Magnus. 

The show that night was a couple singing covers of Motown songs, and they were to end with a cover of _Don’t Leave Me This Way._ He hears the woman begin the song in front of them, only accompanied by Maia on the bass. On his cue, Alec comes in with the beat, and eventually the other instruments follow suit. 

“ _Don’t leave me this way, don’t leave me this way...”_ the woman sings, leaving the stage while the audience cheers. The lights go pitch black for a moment, before coming on so the guests can leave the theater. Alec wipes the sweat off his forehead before rolling out his shoulders and getting up from behind the kit. 

As he packs up his stuff, Maia walks up to him, helping him gather his music. “Thanks,” he says as she hands him the last piece of music. “You were really great on that last song.” 

“Thank you,” Maia responds, walking with him out of the theater. “I know you don’t usually like to hang out with us, but I wanted to invite you to go out with us at the port tomorrow. We’ve all been working hard every night, especially you. You deserve a reward for it.” 

“I don’t know,” Alec says. “It’s just my job.” 

“Yeah, but what’s the point of playing on a cruise if you aren’t going to enjoy any of the travelling?” Maia asks. Alec opens his mouth to respond, but can’t find the right answer. “Exactly. We’re all starving musicians, we need to stick together.” Alec had forgotten how that felt. Just playing music to get by, having fun with friend. He hesitantly agrees, and goes to bed that night looking forward to the next day. 

“ _Mom, why did you have to let them rehearse here?” Isabelle complains, covering her ears. Maryse sighs, sitting next to her young daughter on the couch. “They’re so loud, and annoying.”_

_“I know, honey. But it was too hard for Alec to bring his drums to someone else’s house,” Maryse says, covering her own ears._

_In the basement of the house, the four boys try their best to play through their song, preparing for their first performance at the youth center talent show in just a week. Simon stands stiff in the corner, intricately focusing on his notes on the bass that was still just slightly too big for him to play. Raphael jumps around, sloppily playing his guitar solo, nearly tripping over the chord. Despite getting_ _drum set_ _lessons for three years, Alec still feels uncomfortable leading the tempo in the band._

_He listens for the solo to be over, until it’s just Jace and him playing the interlude. Jace lowers his voice, singing into the cheap microphone he got for Christmas. “I’ll keep you my dirty little secret,” he sings._

_“Dirty little secret,” Raphael whispers into the same microphone, holding back a laugh._

_“Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret,” Jace continues, elbowing Raphael in the side when he laughs into the microphone again, missing his notes. Alec plays his quick drum fill, leading them back into the last chorus._

_This time, all four of the boys scream the lyrics, oblivious to the ruckus Alec’s family was hearing upstairs. After the last note, Alec shreds on the drums, playing as fast as he could. Eventually he slows down, hitting the crash cymbals with both sticks. The other three laugh, all strumming their instruments once more, and Jace screams into the microphone. Alec watches his three best friends messing around, burning the image into his mind._

_“This is the best,” Jace says. “I want to do this forever.”_


	2. Chapter 2

_ “ _ I can’t believe how nice it is out here,” Maia says as the four musicians walk off the boat after the ship ports along the beach in Sri Lanka. “I just want to lay on the beach and drink tequila.” 

“That’s kind of the idea,” Aline says. “But first, I’m on the hunt for free Wi-Fi. I’ve already spent nearly two hundred buying it on the ship.” Magnus and Maia groan, nodding in agreement. It had been weeks since Alec had contact with anyone except checking in with Isabelle every other day. And even then, he refused to listen to anything about the band. 

They venture further into the city, eventually finding a small restaurant with internet access. At first, Aline complains about how slow it is, but after their phones start working again, her and Maia become glued to their screens. Alec looks in front of him at Magnus, who sips on his drink silently, watching the other patrons. 

Eventually, Magnus notices Alec’s eyes set on him. “I just don’t see the point,” he says. “It’s just going to be the same senseless social media posts I saw before. This is probably the only time I’m going to be in Sri Lanka, I want to take in as much as I can. Even if it’s just the locals.” 

Alec nods, smiling to himself. He follows Magnus’ line of sight to a small family all eating breakfast on the other side of the restaurant. The parents are talking among themselves in a language that Alec couldn’t understand, but he could tell they were enjoying themselves. They had one child, a little girl who was playing with her food. Alec envied the simplicity of the scene. 

Once they’re done eating, the group go together back to the beach, where Maia lays out her towel to tan under the beating sunlight. Aline makes the suggestion to join the dozens of other people swimming in the ocean. The water was clear, the waves lazy, rolling against the sand. “You can go get salt water in your mouth if you want,” Maia says. “But we’ve been holed up on that ship for weeks, and I need some sunlight.” 

“Fine,” Aline says, “But you’re going to miss out.” She looks back at the water, then over to Magnus and Alec. “Are we going or not?” 

Magnus shrugs, unbuttoning his floral shirt. Alec hesitates, his hand clenching the bottom of his t-shirt. He frequented the gym, and was comfortable with how his body looked. At many shows, he had made the decision to take his shirt off. The audience didn’t care, and if anything, he partly did it because he knew it made him come across more confident than he actually was.

But here, in front of three people, who, for some reason, Alec felt an uncontrollable urge to impress as a fellow musician, he felt scared to expose himself. In the past few years that the bands popularity had risen, he had a few mornings where he woke up with a new tattoo. On his forearm, he had an intricate tattoo of flowers that he had gotten after high school. It was tasteful, even his mother had accepted it. But up and down his torso, both in the front and back, he had different tattoos scattered around his body. 

He could feel Aline and Magnus staring at him, waiting. Alec pulls his shirt up over his head, before dropping it in the sand. He expects them to say something, to judge him, but they just start walking toward the water. To some extent, he knew they had interest in the ink on his body, but it felt more out of creative respect. By the time they reach the waves, Alec has completely forgotten his fears about his image, and finds himself chasing Aline into the water, laughing. 

_ Alec rolls out of his bed, barely able to stand straight up. He groans, waiting for his head to follow suit with his feet. Eventually, he’s able to push himself up off the mattress, and stagger into the bathroom. He’s blinded by the sunlight peering in through the window, indicating that it was the afternoon.  _

_ He slowly brushes his teeth, getting the after taste of whatever he got drunk on the night before out of his mouth. Eventually, his vision focuses, and he’s able to look at himself in the mirror. They had played a gig for one of Clary’s film school friends. It was a weird, interpretive art exhibit, but in the end, the artist had wanted to destroy the set, and the band could instigate that easily. The after party was hazy, all he remembered was toasting drinks with Simon, and then leaving early.  _

_ However, he soon notices a large bandage taped over the right side of his chest. Upon touching it, he feels a familiar, stinging pain, and sighs to himself. Slowly, he removes the bandage, revealing stark black ink against his skin. The tattoo is the size of his fist, prominent on the skin of his peck. The pattern crosses at the top, coming to a point at the bottom, the symbol the band had used on the cover of their first EP.  _

_ After pulling on a shirt to hide the ink, Alec heads out to the kitchen of the apartment he was crashing in after high school ended. The other three members are already there, sitting around in the kitchen. Simon flips a pancake in a pan on the stove, and looks up when Alec walks in.  _

_ “Morning Sunshine,” Jace says, earning a death glare from his friend. “I have a hunch that you woke up with a distinct itch on your chest?”  _

_ Alec stops in his tracks, rolling his eyes. “Were you the one who didn’t stop me from getting tattooed while wasted?”  _

_ Jace laughs, leaning back in his seat. “No, it seems that someone let all of us get tattooed while wasted.” He slides his fingers under his t-shirt, pulling it to the side to reveal and identical tattoo to Alec’s. Raphael and Simon do the same, their own in the same place on their body as well. It takes Alec a moment to understand what had happened, before he groans and rolls his eyes.  _

_ “We are going to look like idiots the next time we perform,” Alec says, sitting down next to Raphael. He buries his head in his hands. _

_ “Look on the bright side,” Raphael says, patting Alec’s back. “At least you get to hide behind the  _ _ drum set _ _.”  _

Alec hisses as he applies the aloe- vera gel to his skin that Aline had generously lent him after their excursion in Sri Lanka. Since he hadn’t had a chance to spend a day outside in years, sunscreen was completely out of mind. Slowly, he pulls back he pulls back on his t-shirt as Magnus enters the room. He brushes against Alec as he walks by. The dorm they shared was the tiniest room Alec had ever seen, and the lack of windows didn’t help.

“It was getting too crowded in the guest area,” Magnus says, climbing into his bed on the bottom bunk. “The crew manager made me come back down here. I bet his room has windows.” Alec chuckles, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. Since moving onto the cruise ship, he was beginning to harbor a tan. It had officially been two months since he stopped drinking, and the dark circles under his eyes were gone. 

Before Alec can respond to the other man, there’s a loud knock on their door. Magnus invites them in, and Maia and Aline burst through the door. Aline closes the door behind her, crowding the four musicians in the small room. 

“Yes?” Magnus asks, shutting his book, irritated. 

“ Tonight, is the night, my friends,” Aline says, smiling. 

“The night for what?” Alec asks, bending over and sitting on the bottom bunk next to Magnus. He’s too tall to sit straight up without bumping his head on the top bunk, so he leans forward , r e s t i n g h i s e l b o w s o n h i s k n e e s .

“It’s the first night since we boarded the ship that we don’t have a rehearsal and a show,” Aline continues. “Which means, we have the liberty to do a show in the staff lounge for the other members of the crew.”

“Why would I want to spend my one night off playing another gig?” Magnus asks, forcing himself up. He moves around Alec, swinging his legs around to sit next to him. The mattress sinks in, pushing the two men together. Magnus tries to ignore how hard Alec’s arms are, sculpted from his years of drumming and working out. 

“Because, after knowing her for over a year now, I finally want to win Helen over,” Aline says. Magnus and Alec laugh, and Maia shakes her head. “I’m serious. I’m not a good singer, but I’m willing to serenade her in front of a bunch of people it means she’ll finally be my girlfriend.”

“She also promised to buy us all drinks and Wi-Fi for a week,” Maia says. Then, Magnus agrees to do the show. Alec hesitates at first, but nods his head, knowing that without a drummer, the music wouldn’t sound right anyway. As they sit in a circle, planning out a set of cover songs for the gig that night, Alec can’t help but stare at his phone, longing to unblock Jace’s number and call him. 

_ Simon closes out their next song, the amplified bass guitar captivating the audience. He draws each note out longer than he played on the recording, flipping the shoulder length hair he had grown out over the course of the tour behind him. The crowd cheers, and he smiles, before finally ending the song.  _

_ “Alright, alright, Memphis-” Jace starts, the crowd erupting in noise. He waits a moment, listening to them. “Oh, shit, I guess we’re in Pheonix. Oops,” he laughs into his microphone, looking over at Raphael, who shakes his head. It was their first solo tour, and almost each venue had been sold out, the club packed with a couple hundred people in each city. But footage of each show was reaching tens-of-thousands of people online. A few of their venues even had to be switched out for bigger ones in the last leg of the tour. _

_ Playfully, Alec hits his kick drum twice, then the crash cymbal, making the audience laugh again. Jace turns around and looks at him, shaking his head before continuing. “I want to change the vibe in here just for a moment,” he says. “Because this moment is just for us, and for you, Pheonix, and a very special someone in my life.” Jace always had a way with talking to the audience, making each show feel as personal as possible. Alec could never tell himself if it was genuine or not. “From backstage, everyone, Clary Fairchild.”  _

_ Isabelle pushes Clary onto the stage, toward Jace. Clary looks horrified, staring at the audience for a moment before Jace reaches out and pulls her toward him. She was Isabelle’s college roommate, and had helped produce a few of their music videos. Her and Jace had hit it off instantly, but nothing had been made official.  _

_ “This is going to be the cheesiest thing I probably do in my entire career,” Jace says to the audience. “We haven’t played a cover song in years, so you’re going to have to bear with us for this one.” Raphael strums his guitar, changing the sound to acoustic on the amp. He plays by himself for a minute, before Alec joins in with a soft, yet-upbeat pattern on his drums, followed by Simon adding in the bassline.  _

_ Clary watches Jace with wide eyes as he raises the microphone to his face, singing the first verse. “If you, if you could return, don’t let it burn,” his voice is the softest the audience had ever heard it. With the band’s music, Jace was always pushing himself, nearly screaming the lyrics. While there were melodic moments on the album, he never showed much emotion with his voice, aside from angst or rage.  _

_ The song goes on, and by the last chorus, the audience is singing along. It was the first time at a Book of Raziel show where the audience swayed as opposed to opening up a pit and pushing each other around. “You know I’m such a fool for you,” Jace and the audience sing together. “You’ve got me wrapped around your  _ _ finger; _ _ do you have to let it linger?”  _

_ Alec watches from behind his drum kit as Jace pulls Clary in close to him, asking her to be his girlfriend. She says yes, and he grabs her face, pulling her in for a kiss. He pulls away for a moment, staring into her eyes, the colorful lights shining off of them. And Alec can’t explain it, he doesn’t understand it, but he feels something in his body take over, and he slams down on the toms, playing a loud fill before filtering out into the rest of the kit. He leads them into the next song of the set, much earlier than Jace had asked him to earlier in the night.  _

_ After the show, Alec would chalk it up to his nerves and the shots he had done before the show. But deep down, he knew what the aching feeling in his chest was. He was jealous, and inside, it made him feel like there was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. The video footage of the show would go viral in the twitter community, many people not only praising Jace for the grand romantic gesture, but also talking about how much they were missing out on the musicality of his voice. From there, Alec would find himself sitting through dozens of song-writing sessions with Clary in tow, Jace practically serenading her with every slow song he came up with. Only one made the album, for the sake of their image, but Alec would never forget how agonizing it was to watch his best friend be happy.  _

Jace groans, turning his head to look at the drummer they had hired to fill in for Alec on the tour. “You need to get that fill right, man,” He mutters before angrily shoving his microphone back on the stand. 

“I’m trying,” the drummer says, rolling his eyes and placing his sticks on the snare drum. “Without sheet music, I have to transcribe everything by ear. And it’s a hell-of-a-lot of notes to hear.” 

“I don’t care which fucking drums you hit,” Jace says, his entire body now turned around to face the other man. “You need to catch the same figures that Alec does. He doesn’t just hit random drums on the kit. There’s a method to his madness. It’s heavy, but melodic. He doesn’t just play a  beat; he accompanies what we’re doing. And if you can’t-” 

“Jace, play nice,” Simon interrupts, placing his bass on the stand next to him. “We don’t need to argue a few hours before a show. It’s just going to bring in bad energy. It is what it is.” Jace stares at Simon for a moment, before shaking his head and walking off the stage. “I’m sorry about him, Johnathan,” Simon says to the drummer. “I know it seems like you only got hired because your Clary’s brother, but you really have come in clutch on such short notice.” 

“We’ve been playing together since we were thirteen. Jace is just having trouble with the transition,” Raphael assures the other man. 

Johnathan shrugs, before getting up from behind the kit. “I’m getting a paycheck either way,” he says. “Plus, my Instagram follower count tripled since we started touring.” Raphael and Simon make eye contact for a moment, before Simon turns away and follows Johnathan off stage.

“Tonight’s going to be pretty big,” Simon says as they arrive at the food table. “There’s going to be almost a thousand people in the venue. Security said there’s already people waiting outside.” 

“Sweet,” Johnathan says, taking a bite out of a muffin that was placed on the table. Simon wipes sweat from his brow, basking in the Oregan heat. After standing for a minute, Johnathan checks a message on his phone and smiles. “One of my friends is waiting outside to pre-game.” 

“Pre-game? Before a show?” Simon asks. 

“Come on, I know you and Raphael take a smoke break before every show,” Johnathan says. 

“To ease our nerves,” Simon says. “But we don’t do anything that’s going to impair us before the show.”

“And you think I would?” Johnathan asks. Simon opens his mouth to respond, but Johnathan smirks and walks away, toward the door. He stops, looking behind him. “Are you coming?” 

Maia strums the last note of the song, dragging it out for their small crowd of fellow cruise ship employees. They cheer for the group, their first, and probably only source of entertainment on the ship. Eventually, the group start taking requests, jamming along to both pop songs and classic songs alike. 

Eventually, Helen shows up, sitting on the couch just feet away from them. Alec watches as Aline’s body becomes tense, aware of the other girl. Helen claps along with her friends, singing along to the pop song they were covering.

“If you don’t say anything, I will,” Maia whispers to Aline, raising her eyebrows. Aline makes a face at her, laughing out of nervousness. Drinks had been passed around at this point, and the crowd, and band members were beginning to get tipsy. 

Aline pauses for a moment, before looking back at Alec. He starts the song with a short fill. The audience watches Aline scramble before she starts playing a familiar guitar riff. Helen jumps out of her seat, excited clapping. “This is my favorite song!” She exclaims. 

“I know!” Aline yells back, still strumming the notes. “Why don’t you come sing?” Helen looks at the other girl, horrified. “Come on, I barely know the words!” They end up running through the first instrumental part of the song twice before Helen finally steps up to the microphone with Aline. 

The girls don’t harmonize with each other, and range out of key from the bass and guitar for a few verses, but it still gets the crowd riled up. By the end of the verse, Magnus, who chose not to play his keyboard during the rock song, gets the crowd clapping in rhythm. During the final chorus, everyone who knew the words were singing. 

“ _ If you want to destroy my sweater,”  _ Aline yells into the microphone, Helen now singing with her arm around the other girl's shoulders. _ “Hold this thread as I walk away!” _

Even Alec finds himself letting loose, singing along. They close out the song by jamming through the instrumental part one more time, before Alec lets loose and plays as fast as he can on the small kit, all four of his limbs working hard. He ends the song with one last crash on his cymbals. After cheering one last time, the crowd disperses, returning to their normal cliques, the time now too late to continue playing. 

Before she can help carry the drums back to the guest lounge, Aline disappears out of the bar with Helen in tow, leaving Maia and Magnus to help Alec with the job. Eventually, it comes down to just the kick drum. After arguing about it, Magnus talks Maia into going back to her room while he helped Alec carry the heavy last piece of equipment down the hallway. 

Tipsy from the night, Magnus sways where he stands, watching Alec finish putting the kit back together. “I know I shouldn’t be asking this, but... why don’t you drink?” Magnus asks the other man. “At least, not like the rest of us. This might be a job, but it’s still a cruise ship with a discounted bar.” 

Alec shrugs, carefully re-attaching the pedal to the bass drum. “It’s just not really my scene, I guess.” 

“Well, it sure looks like your ‘scene,’” Magnus uses air quotes. “Not to sound judgmental... but you are a drummer with an abundance of tattoos and scrappy hair.” 

“Scrappy hair?” Alec asks, holding back a laugh. At first, he had pegged Magnus for a pretentious Julliard pianist, but since being forced to spend several hours a day with him in the last two months, his opinion was changing. 

“You look like you’re in a nineties grunge band,” Magnus says, following Alec out of the lounge. They descend into the hallway, in the direction of their shared room. 

“Do I?” Alec questions, and Magnus sways as he walks, bumping into Alec’s shoulder. “And what would you know about  the nineties grunge bands?” 

“Enough to recognize the look when I see it,” Magnus responds, and they stop at the elevator. “Some of us grew out of our phases when we reached adulthood.” Alec laughs, looking away from the other man. The elevator arrives on their floor, and they walk together to the room. 

Alec lies in the top bunk, waiting for Magnus to shut off the light. Magnus comes out from the tiny bathroom, having changed into his pajamas. Alec can hear him shuffling around for a few minutes before the lights are finally turned off. Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he hears Magnus speaking.

“I enjoyed listening to you play tonight,” Magnus says, his voice hoarse. “In all our other performances, you seem so controlled. Intricate. It feels like your holding something back. But tonight, I think we finally got a taste of who you really are.” 

Alec stares up at the dark ceiling for a moment before responding. “I choose to never talk about this,” he starts. “But I suppose it’s worth mentioning that I have a bachelor’s degree from the Berklee college of music.” 

“ _ The  _ Berklee?” Magnus asks from the bottom bunk. “Maia, Aline, and I talk about our days in college all the time. We just assumed you were building your career on your talent, not the paper certification.” 

“I don’t know, I guess after you said you went to Julliard, I felt  self-conscious, and it didn’t seem like it mattered.” 

“Alec,” Magnus yawns, interrupting himself. “Regardless of your degree or not, you are one of the most talented musicians I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with. And I’ve played with a lot of talented musicians. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, and just let your music speak for you.” 

Alec doesn’t respond, listening to Magnus’s breathing slow, falling asleep. He lies awake most of the night, trying to ignore the gaping hole in his chest coming back to haunt him after running away from it for months. It had seemed as though no matter where he tried to put himself, there was something about him that was missing. 

The last song of the night, Jace sings the lyrics with vigor, riling up the tired crowd. On the sides of the stage there were cameras filming the mosh pit for their upcoming music video, Isabelle’s idea. Jace holds the microphone out to the crowd, listening to them sing the lyrics before finishing out the chorus. 

Behind him, the rest of the band finish out the song, Raphael strumming his guitar as quickly as he could, yelling to the crowd. Just as he thinks they’re finished, Simon suddenly hurls himself into the crowd, bass still attached to his body. Everyone screams, cameras flashing in a frenzy of bright lights. Jace looks over at Raphael, his mouth gaping open. The last thing he sees is Raphael shrugging, before the lights go out. 

After meeting a few fans after the show, Jace finds Isabelle and Clary helping Simon ice the several bruises he had accumulated on his body from the sudden stage dive. Raphael replaces one of the strings on his bass for him. 

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” Jace asks Simon, his eyes glancing over each bruise. They were mostly prominent on his arms, but made appearances on his neck and cheek bone. “That wasn’t planned.” 

“It was quality content, for the music video,” Simon responds, wincing from the pain as he talks. “Besides, I couldn’t feel a thing until afterwards anyway. Adrenaline rush.” 

Jace rolls his eyes. “Whatever. We don’t need any broken bones in the middle of our first international tour. Don’t do it again, man.” As he’s walking away, he hears Simon raises his voice behind him. 

“Sure thing, Boss.” Jace stops for a moment, before continuing his walk to the tour bus. In all the years he had known Simon, he was the least-riskiest member of the band. It had taken months of begging to get Simon to consider even continuing the band after high school. But everyone was changing, and Jace wasn’t sure if it was for the better. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long school is a bitch.

Jace looks at himself in the mirror, sleeking his hair back. After spending the night on the bus, they had finally arrived at their next show venue, with only a few hours for sound check and warm-up. He sighs, splashing the cold bathroom water in his face, trying to force himself out of his late afternoon haze. This was not only their first international tour, but also their longest tour, and it was taking a toll on everyone. 

He hears voices from outside the venue, arguing. He tries to ignore it, analyzing the rest of his body in the mirror. As he usually did for a show, he was clad in dark, ripped skinny jeans and an oversized tank top that showed off his multitude of tattoos. It was hundreds of  money and hours-worth of artwork, but he cherished every single one. There was a lot of floral work, with blue-hued colors, occasional pops of red. On his chest was a large piece of a book, open to a photo of his late mother. It had taken over twelve hours of work, but it was worth it. 

Just as it’s peaceful again, he hears his name being called, and he rolls his eyes before opening the door. Isabelle stands there, looking at him with a worried look on her face. “I’m sorry to rush you before the show,” she starts, following him as he walks down the hallway of the venue. “But I may have forgotten to inform you that Sebastian Verlac is waiting to film a video with you.” 

“Who?” Jace asks, stopping to look at her. “I’m the lead singer, I should have the right  itinerary , Izzy.” 

“Which I so graciously made in the time after you punched my brother in the face,” Isabelle says, her voice stern. “Sebastian makes YouTube videos interviewing musicians backstage. It’s good publicity, so try and act humble. Be likeable. He has nearly a million subscribers.” 

“I am likeable,” Jace says, earning a glare from Isabelle. She pushes him backstage, into the lounge area, where a tall, blonde man in an over-sized sweatshirt and beanie sets up a camera. Once he sees Jace, he waves, and then shakes his hand. 

“So nice to meet you,” Sebastian says, smiling at Jace. They sit on the old, dark red couch, facing the camera stand. Another man  presses play on the camera, and suddenly Sebastian lights up, leaning forward enthusiastically. “What’s up you guys,” he starts. His voice was higher pitched, bouncier. It annoyed Jace, and they had just started. “I’m Sebastian  Verlac with Epitaph Media, here with  ‘Book of Raziel’ front man Jace  Herondale .” 

Isabelle motions behind the camera, and Jace takes the cue, waving and smiling. “It’s great to be here,” he forces out, trying to hide his confusion. The interview starts out basic. Sebastian asks him about how the tour was going, his favorite venues so far, and what it was like on the tour bus with the other guys. 

“Fans are really buzzing online about the new album. Compared to your other works, this one seems more personal. How does the writing process on this album compare to albums and EPs of your past?” Sebastian asks, looking back up from his note card. 

“Well, uh...” Jace thinks for a moment, looking past the camera at Isabelle again. She smiles, encouraging him. “I think in the past we were trying to please everyone who was around us and sound a certain way. It used to be just Simon and I writing the songs, but for this album we all pitched in our ideas. I suppose that made it all more cohesive.” 

“It’s all about brotherhood, right?” Sebastian asks, putting his fist up. Jace bumps it with his own, pretending that the moment wasn’t painful. After moving onto his next note card, Sebastian looks back over at Jace. “Alright, you know this one was coming. Everyone online is talking about the video that surfaced of you and Alec Lightwood, your drummer, getting in a fight at Coachella. And, he has not thus far been with you on the tour. What happened between you? Is he officially out of the band?” 

Jace looks at the other man for a moment, before looking back at Izzy, then at the camera. It’s quiet in the room for a moment, and he feels himself tense on the couch. Isabelle turns around, not facing him anymore, her arms crossed. Jace follows her gaze toward the door, to Raphael and Simon, who had been sitting watching the interview. 

“You should ask him yourself,” Jace answers, looking over at Sebastian. Sebastian pauses for a moment, confused, before looking at the camera and closing out the interview. The last shot is him and Jace shaking hands, before Sebastian turns it off. 

“Okay, uh... Now, I usually do a walk-through with the other members. If that’s... okay?” Sebastian asks Isabelle. She nods, and he disappears down the hallway with Raphael, who leads him out to the stage. 

Isabelle sighs, looking at Jace, who rolls his eyes at her. “I don’t care what you have to say,” Jace says, crossing his arms. “How am I supposed to answer that question when you won’t even tell me where he is? You said to let people speculate.” 

“I know,” Isabelle retaliates. Her tone isn’t as angry as Jace thought it was going to be. “Fine. Let’s talk.” Her and Jace walk back to the dressing room the band was supposed to share at the venue. Luckily, Raphael was still busy with the interview and Simon was nowhere to be found. 

“So, where is he? He blocked my number. He wasn’t at your mother’s house when I turned up there. His social media is deactivated.” 

“I don’t really know where he is myself,” Isabelle says, running a hand through her hair. “He took a contract playing in the house band for a cruise ship. It’s a ten-month contract. I call him every day, but he doesn’t always answer. As far as I know, he’s alive and playing drums. Like he always wanted.” 

“Cruise ship?” Jace repeats, looking at her with one raised eyebrow. “That’s ridiculous. Alec’s too good to just be playing back up for some cringey Kenny G impersonator.” 

“It wasn’t about what kind of music he’s playing,” Isabelle responds. “Neither of you will tell me what that fight was about. I understand  that. But whatever it was, it was enough to make Alec want to run away.” 

_ Alec stares up at the ceiling of Jace’s room, his eyes scanning over every Green Day and Nirvana poster that graced the stained plaster. He could feel his body getting heavier, sinking into the mattress. For a moment, he swears the mattress is going to consume him, until he feels body heat next to him. Jace had collapsed onto the bed next to his best friend, the bowl in his hand still smoking.  _

_ He passes it to Alec, who finishes off whatever was left of the weed. “I don’t know how I’m going to pass off as sober when I get home,” Alec says, feeling Jace laugh next to him. “This might be the last time you see me, because my dad is going to murder me when I get home.”  _

_ “They won’t notice a thing, dude,” Jace says. “They’ll just chalk it down to  _ _ the angsty _ _ teenager shit.”  _

_ “I’m not angsty.”  _

_ Jace laughs, curling his body over. He swings his leg around, resting it on top of Alec’s waist. Alec tenses as he feels Jace bury his face into Alec’s side, cuddling him. Eventually, Jace falls asleep, his hot breath on Alec’s shirt. Alec lays there as still as possible, until he slowly, carefully, removes himself from Jace’s grip.  _

_ He escapes to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as gently as possible. In the mirror, he looks back at himself, eyes tinged red from smoking. His hair sticks up on the back of his head, a result from laying in Jace’s bed for so long. He had finally been able to grow facial hair, and stares at his soft mustache and chin hair. _

_ As much he tries to distract himself from the boy on the other side of the door, there’s no use helping it. Alec slides down the wall behind him until he’s sitting on the floor, curled up in himself. Gently, he reaches his hand across his waist, to where Jace had buried his head. He convinces himself that it was just the weed, but deep down, he knew the pain in his chest meant more.  _

_ “ _ I want everyone on their feet for this one,” the performer on stage says into the microphone, raising his arms up. The audience stand up, cheering for the group. They were at the last song of the set, and the band was getting tired. “We’re all singing for this one.” 

Once he’s done, the band all look at each other, listening to the metronome in their headphones. It counts them off, and they start in perfect unison, Maia and Magnus staring at each other. Magnus was using two keyboards for this performance, one set to synthesizer and one set to regular piano. He makes the transition from synthesizer to piano with ease as the first verse comes in. 

On stage, the singer sways his shoulders to the beat, before coming in. “ _ You could never know what it’s like, your blood like winter freezes just like ice,”  _ He stops dancing for a moment, posing for the audience. “ _ And there’s a cold lonely light that shines from you, you’ll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use.”  _

The audience joins in, singing along, as the song continues. Eventually, they get to the guitar solo at the bridge, which Aline plays perfectly. The performer points to her, and everyone claps. By the end of the song, even Magnus, Maia, and Aline are singing along. Alec ends the song with a quick fill across the drums, and the lights go out. In front of them, the audience cheers, and the Elton John impersonator bows. 

Alec was always the last to leave the stage, taking his time winding down from the performance. Just as he’s leaving, the impersonator comes back onto the stage, changed out of his bright colored suit, and into a t-shirt and jeans. “Great job tonight,” he says, holding out his hand. Alec shakes it firmly, although he was embarrassed by how clammy his hands  were. “We haven’t had as decent of a drummer as you on our last shows.” 

“Thanks,” Alec responds, shifting awkwardly. Usually, the acts would only share a few words with the band. Most of the time, he was confined to only talking to the other musicians. “Um...”

“You can call me Underhill,” the man says, gesturing for Alec to follow him. “I was planning on going down to the buffet for dinner tonight, but it looks like it’s going to close soon. So, room service it is.” 

“Right,” Alec says. “It usually closes around this time.” They get to the elevator, and Underhill presses the button for his floor. As Alec reaches over to press the button for the staff lounge, Underhill turns to him. 

“I’m sure the food they provide you isn’t even halfway decent,” he says. Alec looks at him, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “This is me inviting you to come up with me.” 

“Oh,” Alec’s eyes widen and he steps back. “I... I’m not sure, if...” 

“It’s just dinner,” Underhill says. “To thank you for putting on such a good show.” Alec stares at the other man for a moment, his mind overcome with Jace’s voice from the night of the festival, the nasty words that he said. Alec doesn’t say anything to Underhill, but he doesn’t  press another button. 

Alec sits across from the other man, at a small table next to the window of the room. It wasn’t one of the ships nicest suites, but it was far nicer than the tiny room that Alec had been held up in for months. Outside, the ship coasted along the ocean. The lights from the rooms bounced off the water, reminding Alec of looking up at the stars.

Underhill was describing how long he had been an Elton John impersonator, but Alec was barely listening. Since entering the room, Underhill had just ordered them food, and Alec made sure to stay at least three feet from the man. He felt the guilt building in his chest. During his four years at Berklee, he had hooked up with a few other students, but it was always a secret. Everything had always been a secret. As far as his sister and bandmates knew, Alec was romancing girls after the show just like Simon and Raphael. 

“Now, I don’t consider myself a perfect impersonator,” Underhill says. “I can hit the notes, but I just don’t carry the same energy as Elton John. It’s hard to pull off.” 

“Then why choose him?” Alec asks, trying to make it seem like he was fully paying attention. 

“Because everyone knows the songs,” Underhill responds. Alec laughs, looking down at his food. “It just gives me a confidence, I suppose. And I get paid well.” Alec takes a bite of his food, looking back up at Underhill. “So, how did you end up playing drums on a cruise ship?” 

Alec clenches his jaw and shifts in his chair. He swallows his food slowly, looking back at the other man. Images of Jace, under the red lights of the after-party flow into his mind. The smell of brandy on his breath. The sweat dripping down his face. None of the performers stayed longer than their night, and Alec could tell that Underhill didn’t know who he was.

“I’m in love with my best friend,” Alec says, ignoring his conscious telling him to stop. “I have been in love with my best friend since we were thirteen. But he doesn’t love me back, not the way I want him to.” Underhill leans back in his seat, eyebrows raised in surprise. “In an effort to get back at him for not loving me, I decided to hide on a cruise ship so I wouldn’t have to deal with my feelings.” 

Underhill presses his fork into the plate, awkwardly. Alec listens to it scrape, the high-pitched sound ringing in his head. “Alexander, I think-” 

“I don’t care what you think,” Alec says, getting up from his chair. “You didn’t invite me up here to eat and talk.” He walks around the small table, standing in front of the other man. Underhill looks up at him, watching as Alec puts his hands on his shoulders. Slowly, Alec moves forward, sitting on the other man’s lap, facing him. 

“I leave this ship tomorrow morning,” Underhill says. “Alexander, I can’t help you get over your feelings for-” 

“I know,” Alec interrupts. He leans forward, pushing his upper body closer until his hips collide with the other mans. Underhill gasps, his hands instinctually latching onto Alec’s waist. “I just...” Alec whispers, his breath hot against the other man’s neck. “I want to forget about him for a while.” He pulls back, looking at the other man. Underhill opens his mouth to respond, but closes it. They stare at each other for a moment, before Alec leans in and kisses him, his mind becoming cloudy. 

For next two weeks, Alec finds himself being heckled non-stop by his band mates. “How low do you have to stoop?” Maia jokes. “An Elton John impersonator, I can’t believe it. You must have been really-” 

“I’m going to practice,” Alec interrupts her, standing up from the table. 

“No, come on, you know I’m joking,” Maia pleads. Alec gives her a glare, and sits back down. It was one of their first days off in weeks, and the cruise had made its transition from Asia around to Europe, picking up a new group of passengers at a port in Sicily. They had decided to go out for breakfast in a small café that served the best espresso Alec had ever tasted.

Maia and Aline trail off the topic of Alec’s one-night stand, and he turns his attention to Magnus. In the past few shows, Magnus had become distant, showing up to rehearse, but otherwise disappearing. The only time Alec saw him was right before they went to sleep, and when he woke up, he was usually gone from the room. Even now, he was glancing out the window, his food untouched. 

They leave in a group, and Aline and Maia step into the first shop they see. Alec and Magnus look at the window of a book store, standing a few feet apart. In their reflection, they lock eyes, and Magnus hastily looks away, walking into the store. Alec follows suit, lingering behind him. Most of the books are in Italian, but Magnus busies himself looking through them anyway.

Throughout the late morning, they go to several stores, only stopping when Maia and Aline decide to make a bathroom trip. The streets of Sicily are crowded with people, both tourists and locals. Amongst the loud commotion of the crowd, Alec and Magnus perk up when they hear the sound of a piano. The piece is slow, but across the street, Alec spots a young woman dancing, accompanied by another woman playing a beat up, sun bleached wooden piano. 

Magnus and Alec look at each other, and Magnus shrugs. Without speaking, they walk toward the small crowd forming in front of the dancer. She seems to be a professional, moving with an exquisite form over the stone sidewalk. Many people have their cell phones out, recording the performance. 

The song comes to an end, the woman posing, her hands stretching up to the sun. Everyone cheers, and Alec doesn’t even notice Magnus talking to the young pianist. They shake hands, and Magnus sits down on the bench. He takes a deep breath, before diving right into a fast-paced piece, Alec recognizes it from his days in music school. Chopin’s nocturne, one of his most famous pieces. The audience immediately becomes entranced, and the dancer steps aside, gesturing to Magnus. 

After a few minutes of the slow piece, the crowd starts dissolve. But to everyone’s surprise, Magnus suddenly jumps into a completely different piece. His right-hand dances across the keys, playing a quick-moving melody, accompanied by his left hand, making considerable jumps between the keys. Once more people hear the impressive stride style, they gather once more. Magnus smiles, and the crowd start swaying with him. 

The dancer starts moving again, this time moving her body in a classic, 1920s style dance. Before he even realizes it, she grabs Alec’s hand and pulls him into the open space with her. She guides his hands, forcing his arms to swing. The crowd laughs, and looks around, horrified. “It’s okay,” She says, her voice heavy with an Italian accent. “Just dance!” 

Hesitantly, Alec starts swaying with her, feeling uncomfortably uncoordinated. The crowd cheers anyway, and eventually Alec finally gets into the dance. He follows her one step behind, but tries his best to stay on beat with Magnus. By the end of the tune, she looks at Alec, and they jump up twice in unison, before Alec grabs her hand and spins her around. Magnus finishes the song, slamming his hands on the keyboard in one last chord, and Alec and the woman freeze. 

Everyone around them erupts in cheering, and Magnus hands the piano back over to the original accompanist. Aline and Maia wave at them from the crowd, and they meet up again. Aline and Maia gush about the performance, wishing they had seen more of it. 

Once they get back to the ship, Alec and Magnus step into their small room, and for the first time in the past two weeks Magnus actually stays. “That was something,” he says to Alec. “I didn’t know you could dance like that.” 

“You call that dancing?” Alec says. “I was stumbling the entire time. I didn’t even know she was going to pull me in like that.” 

“You did have your mouth gaping over the entire time,” Magnus jokes. Alec shakes his head, before climbing up to his bed. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Alec speaks again. “Are you okay? You’ve been kind of distant since we played with that goofy Elton John impersonator.” 

Magnus looks down, away from Alec. “So, he’s goofy now?” He asks. 

Alec shrugs. “He always was,” he responds. “Some of his dancing was  questionable .” 

“Well, you’re the one who slept with him,” Magnus counters. 

“It didn’t mean anything,” Alec says. “He didn’t even say goodbye to me when he left the ship in the morning. I woke up to one of the housekeepers letting herself in and covering her eyes when he saw me on the bed.” 

Magnus laughs, and Alec feels his face turn red. “What a gentleman.” They continue talking the rest of the afternoon, into the evening. The next day, when Alec wakes up, Magnus is still in the room for the first time in weeks, and they head to breakfast together. 

Isabelle wakes up to the sound of someone yelling her name from the other side of the tour bus. She groans, pushing herself out of her bunk. “What do you want?” She asks, her voice hoarse. She looks at her phone, the time reading four a.m. “I shouldn’t be awake for at least four more hours.” 

“I think we found Alec,” Jace says. He, Simon, and Raphael are up watching a video on Simon’s laptop. It had been shared with their official band page hundreds of times. On the screen, Isabelle watches as Alec sloppily dances with a woman on the stone street of Sicily, to a pianist playing music reminiscent of the 1920s.

“What the fuck is this, Isabelle?” Raphael asks. “Here we thought Alec was sulking somewhere, and he’s dancing on the streets of Italy.”

“It doesn’t even feel like him,” Simon says. “The Alec I know would rather be caught dead than dance in public with a stranger. He didn’t even go to prom in high school.” 

Isabelle watches the video again, not able to believe it’s her brother smiling and laughing in front of a crowd. “I have some PR work to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think and where i should take it in the comments.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took so long. school keeps me incredibly busy but now that we are on lockdown I miraculously have more time. its bittersweet.

A week later, Alec turns his phone off and hides it in his suitcase under the bed. Isabelle had called him a dozen times, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. He and Magnus had gotten into a routine of waking up at the same time, eating together, reading their new charts together, practicing together. They spent nearly every minute of the day together and Alec couldn’t get enough of the other man. Everything with Magnus felt slow motion, almost like it did when he used to hang out with Jace. 

The newest act stationed on the cruise ship was a hard rock cover band, who didn’t need the house band, meaning Alec and the others actually had the week off. They were stationed in Malta, a small island off the coast of Italy, and it made Alec feel like he was in a fairy tale movie. The buildings were old stone, lined with vines green from the summer sun. The beaches were busy, but not overly crowded with tourists taking photos of everything.

Wanting to seize their time off, Maia and Aline insisted on hitting the port for the day. They went in and out of small shops, only stopping for lunch at a seaside restaurant. To everyone's surprise, Magnus was able to order for them in Italian. “Why didn’t you tell us you spoke Italian? It would have made reading the street signs a lot easier,” Aline complains. 

“I’m not fluent,” Magnus responds, taking a sip of his wine. “I am, however, fluent in French, so I can somewhat translate.” 

“Where did you find the time to learn how to speak French at Julliard?” Maia asks, crossing her arms and glancing at Alec. 

“It was before Julliard. I attended a performing arts high school in New York as a teenager, we were all required to learn French diction for opera singing. It grew my curiosity so I studied with a private tutor to become fluent in the summer months.” 

“You’re an opera singer too?” Aline asks, her smile going wider. “You have to show us.” 

“I am not an opera singer,” Magnus counters. “There is a reason I pursued piano when I auditioned for universities. I was merely in the background of the opera. Nothing exciting.” His three friends all look at him, and Magnus averts his gaze. “As if I didn’t sound pretentious enough.” 

“It’s not pretentious, Magnus,” Maia says. “It’s nice to hear of a musician with real accomplishments can still end up playing covers on a cheap cruise ship.” The table laughs, the conversation dying down when the waiter returns with their food. 

A few hours later, Maia and Aline insist on going back to the ship, having gathered a couple bags worth of items from the shops. Alec and Magnus stay behind, sitting on a bench facing the ocean. The sun sits just above the waves, reflecting glimmering purple and orange light onto the sea water. Out of the corner of his eye, Alec can see the moon creeping in, turning day into night. There is a slight breeze, but it feels nice after a long, heated day. Alec leans back on the bench, spreading his arms out. Since boarding the ship, he had tanned nicely, mostly wearing old t-shirts he had cut the sleeves off of in college. The ink he had collected over the years was more prominent against his tanned skin. 

“What made you decide to get so many tattoos?” Magnus asks, glancing over at Alec. His eyes move up and down the other man, his skin glistening with sweat. 

“I was always interested in artwork,” Alec says. “My mother paints in her free time, so that’s where I got my taste.” 

“Which one is the first? They’re all so detailed, and put together. I can’t even tell where they start.” 

Alec feels himself blush, and looks away. He bends his knee, bringing up his ankle. “It’s been covered up for a few years, but when I was sixteen, I let my friend give me a stick and poke. It was supposed to be the Nirvana logo, but it ended up looking like a sad pancake.” Magnus laughs, imagining the sight. He looked down at Alec’s ankle, now adorned with a black and white heavily shaded skull. “What about you, any ink your hiding from us, Magnus?” 

Magnus shakes his head, laughing. “No, I could never bring myself to make that sort of commitment. Lifelong seems... too long, in my opinion.” He looks back up at Alec, and they’re eyes meet briefly before Alec looks back at the water. 

They sit in silence before Alec speaks up again. “You know, Maia had a point at lunch. How does a talented musician as accomplished as you end up playing covers on a cruise ship full of cheap tourists?” 

Magnus scoffs, crossing his arms as the breeze picks up. The silk fabric of his button up shirt flows in the wind, reminding Alec of the waves. “I’m not sure. I needed a break from the New York City life, I suppose. I was constantly busy, constantly finding new projects. Accompanying student recitals. Spending twelve hours in a small studio giving lessons to upper class Manhattan children whose parents were willing to pay eighty dollars an hour on a seven-year-old learning scales they didn’t want to learn. I figured, if I’m going to be giving away my talent to everyone else and never spend time playing for myself, I might as well do it traveling the world.” 

Alec pauses, letting the seagulls squawk in the distance, filling up the space. “You weren’t playing for yourself last week, with that dancer? That was the most fun I had ever seen you have playing piano.”

Magnus looks back at the other man, watching as the breeze blows Alec’s dark hair in front of his eyes. “Well, watching you be forced to dance was a nice motive.” Alec laughs, feeling his cheeks turn flush at the memory. “Besides, I have come to like playing for you.” 

Simon strums his bass obnoxiously, bobbing his head in time with his fingers. The amp is on low volume, but loud enough that Johnathan hears it and laughs, swinging his shoulders with it. “ _ Looking back when I was a little nappy headed boy,”  _ he sings, his voice hoarse. He takes the whole first chorus, Simon giggling along. 

When they get to the chorus, Simon turns up the volume, singing with the other man. “ _ I wish those days- would- come back once more. I wish-”  _

_ “ _ I wish you would shut the fuck up,” Raphael  interupts , unplugging the amp. Simon and Jonathan groan in complaint, but settle down. Raphael reaches into the mini fridge they kept on the tour bus, pulling out a day-old salad he had ordered before their show the previous night.

“Wow,  Raph , I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat green food before,” Simon jokes, earning a glare from his band mate. 

“Well, unlike some of us I’m trying to stay on top of it this tour. It’s our biggest one yet, we can’t afford to mess this up. It could land us some major gigs in the future.” Simon shrugs, and Raphael angrily slams his container on the counter. “I heard you last night,” Raphael says. “You fucked up  _ Growing Pains _ . That’s the first single we’ve ever had that hit a million views on the music video. If you do it again, people are going to notice.” 

Simon shakes his head. “I won’t do it again, man. It was a wild show. Four people threw up in the pit.” 

“You wrote half the lyrics on that one,” Raphael argues. “You wrote all the chords and handed them to me. I haven’t heard you mess up a line on stage in years, much less your own song.” Simon and Raphael look at each other, the tension building. 

Johnathan gets up slowly, “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he says. Simon hands him his repurposed  Altoids can before he heads back to their bunks. 

“Relax, Raphael. I know how high stakes this tour is. I can hear the crowds screaming my- our lyrics. I wouldn’t mess this up for us.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Raphael asks. “Things are different without Alec, I know. And I wish that Jace would tell us what happened between them just as much as you do. But don’t think that I haven’t noticed how you disappear before and after all the shows. And every time you come back you can barely stand up, or you do something that you would never do. Like mess up your own song.” Simon opens his mouth to counter, but Raphael cuts him off. “You might think that the tattoos on your forearm hide it, Simon, but you can’t fool me. We’re brothers. I don’t know why you think it’s okay, but you’re shooting up. And you know it’s different from drinking, or smoking weed like we used to pre-show.” 

“It’s the only thing I have that makes me feel calm, Raphael. You wouldn’t understand. Besides, all of the greats did it, and made their best work.” Simon says, putting his bass down and getting up. He walks back toward their bunks, bumping into the other man on his way there. 

Alec and Magnus board the ship just as the sun has set, walking around the overly crowded tourists all watching dancers at the dinner buffet. They smelled like sea salt and wine, and Alec had, without realizing, gone an entire day without thinking of Jace. Just as they make it to the elevator, the band manager comes up behind them. “There you are! Why don’t you ever answer your phone?” He asks Alec. 

“We have this week off, I left it on the ship,” Alec says, confused. 

“You are the only millennial on earth who leaves their phone behind when they go out,” the manager says. “The drummer for our band is seasick. We need you on stage in an hour. Don’t worry about wardrobe, they have a leather jacket for you to borrow.” He puts his hand on Alec’s shoulder and leads him down the hall, Magnus watching in confusion.

An hour of rabid YouTube drum tutorial searches later, Alec is unexpected on stage, an angry band in front of him. They were all middle-aged men in makeup inspired by eighties rock figures. Alec felt nervous on stage for the first time in years, not even getting to meet the band before they were rushed on stage. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Magnus, Aline, and Maia backstage, giving him the thumbs up. 

The lead singer introduces the band, referring to Alec as Alex  Nighthood , and he hears Aline boo from the sideline. The guitarist immediately jumps into the first song, beginning with a guitar riff the audience recognizes. Luckily, Alec had already knew more than half of the set from all the time Book of Raziel had lived as a cover band in high school. By muscle memory, his right hand hits the hi-hat in time, before his feet come in on the double kick-drum, quick and  boomy in the theater. The rest of the band comes in, and the singer launches into the song. Alec gets every little detail as it is on the original record, and during the bridge, the guitarist looks at him and smiles. 

About halfway through the set, Alec feels himself relaxing, even though he made up some of the fills on the spot, the rest of the band didn’t seem to notice. He even gets in with them in the head banging, although his hair isn’t nearly as long. The set ends with an encore, and when the spotlight shines on Alec, he does a long fill, earning a room full of cheers.

He’s sweated through his shirt by the time the show is over, and he immediately shrugs off the leather jacket they lent him. He apologizes for sweating so much, but the lead singer just shakes his head. “No worries, kid, we wish you were on tour with us all the time, you sure as hell beat our usual drummer. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

Alec brushes off the compliment. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” the guitarist says. “Your face looked familiar. It wasn’t until that last song that it clicked. Your face is on a poster on my kid’s wall back home... Book something, right?” 

“Book of Raziel,” Alec corrects, the name feeling familiar on his tongue. He feels his chest tighten, and his anxiety start to kick in. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s been to a few of your shows. Hey, would you mind if I gave him a call? He would be ecstatic if he got to talk to you.” Alec nods, and looks over at his friends, seeing them all crowded around Maia’s phone. Before he can call out to them, the man hands Alec his phone. 

Maia, Aline, and Magnus all watch as Alec facetimes the teenager, who can’t believe what he’s seeing on screen. Alec talks to him for a few minutes, mostly about how much Book of Raziel’s music means to him. “ _ It practically saved my life!”  _ the kid says, and Alec feels himself become swallowed with guilt for not being with his band at that moment. 

“That’s amazing,” Alec says. As he expected, the kid asks him why he isn’t on tour with the band right now. “I, uh... I needed a break, I guess,” he answers before bidding the teenager goodbye. The cover band thanks him once again, before leaving him to face his friends. 

It’s just Maia, waiting with her arms crossed. He walks over to her, and she holds up an article on her phone about famed punk rock drummer Alec Lightwood disappearing from tour with his band. “Their biggest tour yet,” Maia quotes from the article. “Book of Raziel travels across the country to sold out shows.”

“Maia, I-”

“I knew who you were the moment I saw you,” Maia interrupts, surprising Alec. She motions for him to keep walking with her back to their apartments. “I never listened to your band, but my friends back home did. I know how big you were getting, so I figured there must have been some reason you were on a dingy cruise ship playing Motley Crue covers.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” he says. “It’s just-”

“We all like pretending to be someone else for a while. But I think the jig is up, Alec.” She walks away, leaving him standing alone in the hallway. 

_ Alec tries not to cringe under the vanity lights as the shoot’s makeup artist finished trying to cover up the dark circles he had acquired over the last leg of their tour. When Isabelle volunteered him for a popular tattoo websites YouTube channel, he didn’t think it would be such a big deal. ‘They have almost three million subscribers Alec, so make it worth flying you out. We need the publicity.’ _

_ After a few more minutes in the chair, Alec is let go and follows an assistant down the hall to a room with white lights and a black wall. There was one stool in the middle of the set, in front of the camera, and it felt like an interrogation room. Alec sits down in front of the camera and waits for the director to sit on the other side of the camera. They had sent Isabelle a brief summary of what should happen before, and she had grilled him on being social and open with them the night before. Usually, Jace and Simon did all the talking in the interviews. Alec disliked opening up to a world of strangers, he was perfectly fine being hidden behind his kit.  _

_ The camera turns on, and the director gives him the cue. “Uh... hi. I’m Alec Lightwood, and this is my tattoo story.” After a few seconds, the director cues him again. “What’s up, I’m Alec Lightwood and this is my tattoo story.” Again, he’s given the cue. “Hi, I’m Alec Lightwood, and this is my tattoo story.”  _

_ They give him the thumbs up, and then the director starts asking Alec questions about his tattoos, starting at the side of his neck, where he had a black symbol clearly visible in the lighting. “It’s a design that no one’s seen before, did you make it up yourself?” The director asks, and the producer standing behind him gives Alec the thumbs up.  _

_ “Uh... no. It’s an original, um, my sister, Isabelle used to draw it when we were younger. It was just something she made up, and by the time I decided to get it tattooed the only place I had left was my neck or my face. If I got a face tattoo, I think my mother would finally lose it and kill me, so I got it on my neck.”  _

_ The interviewer laughs before continuing, and they travel to Alec’s arms. Most of the work is just pretty artwork his artist had created with the theme of the sleeve in mind, it didn’t all necessarily have an underlying meaning. They finish with one of his sleeves, and move on to the other. “Yeah, this one had designs of some lore my artist was into at the time.” He gestures to a portrait of a woman, surrounded by dark ink. It was done in hyper detail, and looked nearly like a photograph. “She’s supposed to be a vampire, but I think it was just Luke’s excuse to show off his portrait work.” The director laughs, and then calls cut.  _

_ Alec sits there for a moment, before the director walks over. “Alright, next we’re going to move on to your chest and back. The lighting looks good in the footage, so don’t worry about how you look.” Alec had never cared about how he looked. Until the moment they motioned for him to take his shirt off on camera. He worked out regularly, but had only been fully shirtless in front of a few people. When the band relocated to Boston so he could go to college, there were a few  _ _ one night _ _ stands he often pushed away in his mind.  _

_ After taking a deep breath, Alec takes off his tank top and an assistant takes it. The cameras get back in position, and the director asks his next question. “Let’s start with your chest piece. It’s probably the coolest chest work we’ve had on this channel.”  _

_ Blushing, Alec thanks him. “Uh, well... one day I woke up with this piece, the book... it’s for my band, Book of Raziel. It was okay, but at my next session Luke touched it up, and then he added all these flowers, and traced where my actual skeleton would be, and then he shaded it to look realistic.” The camera zooms in on the piece, a realistic depiction of Alec’s collar bone and chest bone, with flowers and the original book piece. “It took fourteen hours of non-interrupted work.” He remembers the day, and the long conversations he and Luke had during the session. ‘You need to let loose, Alec,’ he told him. ‘Embrace who you are. You don’t get another you.’  _

When Alec opens the door, he finds Magnus sitting on the floor, scrolling through articles on his tablet. He looks up and Alec, frowning, before looking back down. Alec feels the tension in the room, and slowly sits across from the other man. They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Magnus speaks first. “I didn’t know you were so controversial, Alexander. Just up and leaving your famous band out of the blue, disappearing off the face of the earth? What a diva.” 

Alec smiles, and they meet eyes, and Alec feels himself wanting to reach in front of him and cup Magnus’ face. But he doesn’t. “Earlier you said that you were tired of never playing for yourself,” he starts. “We... my band... all pitched in to write our most recent album. It took months in the studio, with producers. Hours hashing out lyrics, and chords. The lead singer... my best friend... found a journal I was hiding, with lyrics and poetry. He insisted we turn them into songs. Half the album was just my work.” 

Magnus looks at him, then back down at his ipad. “A sold-out tour. Biggest venues yet,” he says, reading through an article. “And I quote, ‘one of the most insane Coachella performances of the genre.’ This seems like a big deal, Alec. I don’t understand, why come here? Why run away from all of this?” 

“I needed a break. I... I was angry, all the time. And I didn’t know why. I felt too much, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to be somewhere where I could just turn off. Play covers on a stage where no one would care who I was.” 

Magnus looks at him, his gaze low, dark. He sighs, before typing in something on his tablet. He then holds it out to Alec. On the screen is the band's latest album. Alec looks up at him, confused. “Show me,” Magnus says. “Which songs you wrote. I want to hear them. I want to understand.”

“I think Alec likes making my job harder,” Isabelle says, walking backstage where the band is getting ready for warmup. The four men look at her, crowding around her phone. “A fan has released a video of Alec talking to him on facetime. From a cruise ship his father was on, with the exact name and location of the ship.” On screen, there is a video of Alec in conversation with the teenager, looking tanner than he did the last time she saw him. “He ignores my calls all week, but has time to talk to a stranger.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jace says. “We’re on tour working our asses off, while he’s in paradise, tanning on the beach. And-” 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Raphael interrupts, raising his voice. Jace stops, looking at the guitarist. “We have all respected your choice to not tell us what happened between you two, but this has gone too far. We won’t make it through the rest of this tour without him, and you know that, Jace. We deserve to know what happened, at the very least.” 

“Raph, I told you, it’s personal. I don’t need to share-” 

“We tell you everything,” Simon cuts Jace off. “We’ve always told each other everything, Jace.” He and Raphael make eye contact, but he ignores the other man’s glaring eyes. 

After a moment of silence, Jace shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But I’m  gonna wait until after the show.” The stage director beckons them on for sound check, and Jace follows him, not bothering to look behind at his friends. 

“ _ You might hate my words but you know I’m right”  _ Jace’s voice comes from the speaker of Magnus’  ipad , a song that Alec had written. It was acoustic, with only Jace singing and Raphael on acoustic guitar on the track. “ _ Don’t paint me black, when I used to be golden.” _

It was the last one of the  album that Alec wrote, and he and Magnus had been listening for half an hour. Alec had moved to sit next to Magnus against the bed, on the floor. He hadn’t realized their bodies were now touching, from shoulders to their knees. “I usually don’t listen to rock music,” Magnus says. “They don’t teach that at Julliard.” Alec chuckles. “But... I understand why your work is so popular.” Alec doesn’t answer, he just looks over at the other man. “What are you running from, Alexander?” 

Magnus turns his head, and they are mere centimeters away from each other. Alec stares down at him, his eyebrows narrowed, eyes wide. He can feel Alec’s breath on his cheek. “This,” Alec says, and then he breaks the distance between them. As their lips meet, Magnus feels himself drop the ipad, reaching up and holding onto Alec’s toned shoulders as they get lost in each other. 

_ Alec should have stopped drinking four beers ago, but he couldn’t help himself. His body was sore and exhausted from their performance, but they were still riding the high. In the crowd, people had thrown themselves at others, and a dozen people crowd surfed, screaming the lyrics. It was their biggest show yet, and Alec felt invincible. “This is crazy,” Jace says. “I just signed a girl's tits. That’s like, a dream come true.” Alec laughs. “You need to get out there,” Jace continues. “These girls are practically throwing themselves at us. If I wasn’t with Clary, I would be out there right now.”  _

_ “How thoughtful of you,” Alec says, leaning forward at the table, so Jace could hear him better. “The perfect boyfriend.”  _

_ “Thank you, I try,” Jace says. “She disappeared somewhere.”  _

_ “She seems to do that at parties,” Alec says, and Jace looks over at him, irritated. Normally, Alec wouldn’t say anything to make Jace angry, that was why their friendship worked so well. But the alcohol was getting to him. _

_ “Shut up. As if you can relate. Whatever happened to that girl from the studio? She seemed pretty into you when we went to the launch party.”  _

_ Alec remembers her. How she had leaned into him, whispering into his ear. How Jace and Simon teased him, cheering him on when he left with her. The next day they asked about the night, but he just claimed that he would never tell. They had assumed they slept together, but in reality, Alec left her outside her apartment, disappointed, and never called her number. “That would have never worked out.”  _

_ “And why not?” Jace asks, leaning closer. Alec can smell the beer on his breath, mixed in with sweat and the cologne he always wore. He wore the same cologne as he did in high school, and it made Alec feel like they were sixteen again, laying together in his bed. He missed nights like those. “Come on, man, you tell me everything. How come nothing ever works out with you and chicks?” Alec finds his eyes falling, focusing on Jace’s lips. He couldn’t control himself. His head felt cloudy, and all he could find himself doing was leaning forward. Until he finally closed the distance between them, gently cupping Jace’s jaw in his hands. _

_ For a second, it’s perfect, and despite Jace’s lips tasting like beer, he felt home, and the pain in his chest finally went away. But then, he feels his body get pushed, hard enough that his back  _ _ hits the _ _ wall behind him. A few people are staring, but Alec doesn’t care. “I’m sorry, I-”  _

_ “What the fuck was that, Alec?” Jace exclaims, his eyes wide, face red. “I’m not fucking gay.”  _

_ Suddenly, Alec is  _ _ miraculously _ _ sober, and everything comes back to him. “I’m sorry. I... I had a lot to drink, and-” _

_ “You’re a fucking faggot,” Jace says, his words scalding. “Why didn’t you tell me?” That word makes something switch in Alec. It reminds him of the harsh words from his father growing up, how Alec couldn’t disappoint him. Nights Alec spent alone in his room, trying to convince himself his feelings weren’t real. How badly he wanted Jace to feel the same way. Before he can stop himself, he’s surging forward, grabbing Jace’s shirt and pulling him in to meet his fist.  _

_ Jace grunts, face flying back as he stumbles and falls to the floor. Alec follows him, and punches him again, this time on the other side of his jaw. “Don’t fucking call me that,” Alec whispers. “I can’t take that, not from you.” Still drunk, Jace forces himself to sit up, punching Alec’s cheek. By then a crowd was forming, and the security of the parking was on them in seconds. They pull them apart, but not before Alec can kick his best friend in the side. He hears him moan in pain, and watches as his nose starts to bleed in the light of the cell phone cameras around them.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is playlist I keep updated of these songs linked. please leave a comment and tell me what you want to see!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please let me know what you think in the comments and what you would like to see. for the record, i picture the band sound like turnstile.


End file.
